


A summer away, a boy who drowned

by LuckyMiku64



Series: Burned away history [1]
Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (Movies 1984-1994), A Nightmare on Elm Street - All Media Types, Friday the 13th Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Being mean to religion, Camp Crystal Lake, Child Abuse, Child Death, Content warnings:, Drinking, Drowning, Gen, Horror, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Murder, Origin Story, References to Drugs, Teen Freddy, These tags make it sound way edger than it is, Underage Drinking, Young Jason, child prostitution, human Freddy, i swear it's not that bad, if you can handle a typical slasher movie you should be fine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:54:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22595125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyMiku64/pseuds/LuckyMiku64
Summary: The son of a hundred maniacs finds himself at the end of another school year. What should be a break away from peer harassment and nagging teachers can easily turn into long sleepless nights. However, when he's made aware of the program at his school to become a counselor for an out of state camp he realizes the months of the sun might not have to be a practice in long term agony with small breaks of joy. For one summer, perhaps, he can be normal.
Series: Burned away history [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625833
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9





	1. Summer Pomegranate

The teacher goes on and on with barely anyone paying attention. The room devolving into passive listeners full of apathy. The teacher’s dedication is almost an admirable endeavor. She’s determined but still shit. With everything in the school year wrapped up tightly, most teachers would just put on a movie and call it a day. Sadly, Miss Lagenkamp loved the sound of her own voice. Freddy in the back, spends his time tapping his fingers on his desk; he uses it as a way to count the minutes rolling by at a snail's pace. He was so close to freedom, he could basically feel the sun burning down upon him, just a few months away from the student body would work wonders. He just needed a break from being reminded of his...unfortunate birth. Of course, summer also meant more days alone with Mr. Underwood, and more hours poured into working. So, it wasn’t perfect but, it was something. “Lastly,” The teacher adds moving away from the whiteboard she covered in notes about the available programs.  
“There is a Camp Crystal Lake counselor program. Students that sign up for this program will be moved out of town and spend the entire summer upstate in-”  
The teacher is cut off by a chair screeching against the tile floor, the mumblings of students. She makes eye contact with the Krueger child, who was standing up like he had a point to prove. He sweats, all eyes on him. He didn’t think before he did this, he just acted. He clears his throat while trying to make the move look intentional.  
“I would like to...Join this program, Miss Lagenkamp.”  
The teacher smiles. Despite it causing a bit of a commotion she was glad to have caught the attention of a student. She walks up and places a piece of paper on his desk as he awkwardly sits down.  
“Get a parent and or guardian to sign this paper and hand it in to the office before the end of the year, Krueger.”

The bell rings and the halls quickly become overwhelmed with running children. Krueger navigates the sea of bodies the best he can make his way to his locker. He only pays half attention to grabbing his stuff, he's too focused on the paper. Camp Crystal Lake... The thing has apparently been running for years. It advertised, life skills, college credit, and meals covered. They really wanted lure in kids with this, huh? Well, it only makes sense. Being a counselor meant basically giving up your whole summer, it's a hard sell because of that. As the overcrowding began to slow down, Freddy puts on his backpack and begins his walk home. What was once a happy feeling slowly began to morph and decay into one of dread. He needed a signature for this...He needed the approval from Mr. Underwood. 

Freddy enters the house. He's immediately greeted by the scent of alcohol and tobacco. It's not unlike the back area of the school, but the difference is that the strong presence of those substances was from a community of tryhard teenagers. Here, it was all just his dad. His steps are small, minimizing sound. He could hear the sound of the fridge opening and closing, so he knew that Mr. Underwood was here but... he couldn’t face him just yet. Instead, Freddy slithers upstairs, walking on the sides of the steps as to not cause any creaks, he’s inaudible to his adoptive father. The teen slips into the bathroom only to be blinded by the white light buzzing overhead. He gags when the smell hits him all at once. A horrid mixture of booze, cigarettes, and piss. The combo nation was a lot to take on even if he lived in a house with a consistent smell of cat piss. He holds his breath quickly opening the top drawer on the left grabbing his dad’s old fashioned razor and shoving it into his back pocket. He rushes out quickly pushing the door back in place not wanting the horrid smell to escape. He takes a moment to breathe. Deep breath in, and out. He looks at the paper again, trying to weigh the risk of it all. Was it worth it? He knows offering this to his dad will cause...frustration, but how large would the punishment be? It may have been a foolish move, but Freddy decides to push forward. Walking downstairs to see his dad, whose face firmly attached to the TV, Freddy meekly steps in front of the TV holding the paper in front of him. Mr. Underwood squints;  
“The hell is that?”  
He spat out with his gruff voice. Some internal panic sets in, but Freddy continues, playing it up to just the natural sense of dread he gets being in his father's presence for extended periods of time.  
“It’s a permission slip for some summer work as a camp counselor, sir."  
He stands straight, hands to his sides. Just like he was expected. Trained to be proper in a house run by an undomesticated chucklehead. Mr. Underwood starts reading it over, glancing up at the boy every few sentences with a skeptical look. Freddy could swear even the way he handled the paper was designed to intimidate him. Freddy swallows spit, feels it slither down his throat until the natural process becomes painful. He fights the urge to gag, or even cough. He keeps focused, eyes on the prize. Mr. Underwood looks up at Fredrick, then releases the paper, letting it fall. The air gently floats the sheet to Freddy’s feet. The teen looks at the camp logo tapping against his foot, then up at Underwood. He has the same look after reports from an unsatisfied customer.  
“You really expect me to okay this, boy? You realize that when you’re out of school, you work overtime, right?” Freddy is well aware of that. He has been overtaxed during the summer holidays for as long as he could remember. It was just client after client, even if his body got extremely abused during his hours. He was expected to “be a man” about it and tough it out. The few hours he’d get to himself late into the night would just consist of him laying there feeling the sting of bruises and the burning of choke marks. Just the memories of summers that were robbed from him made him shiver. Mr. Underwood’s voice didn’t help. It was soft, a way he never speaks when he’s feeling nice. He only did it to make Fred listen, and listen good. Well, it was working. Freddy silently nods.  
“You won’t be taking that much profit out of my pocket just so you can run around like a god damned fool!” Mr. Underwood hissed, raising his voice. Freddy stayed in his place, not saying anything. Instead, his eyes journey towards the man’s wrist. Underwood was turning the dial on his watch, the soft clicks of that thing were like thunder to Freddy. A warning to an incoming storm that will, without fail, damage him. With that silent threat Freddy looks up just a tad, but his guardian was wearing a baggy shirt today. Couldn’t see his belt line. “I just think-” Freddy starts, though Underwood cuts him off.  
“I DON'T GIVE A DAMN WHAT YOU THINK BOY!” Mr. Underwood shoved his child back to prove his point. The force alone was enough to bring Freddy crashing against the floor. It wasn’t the worst Krueger had taken, not by a long shot, but it still hurt. Warm spit hits his cheek, then drips down his face. The teen felt a sense of emptiness grow inside him as he lays there. Honestly, that rejection harmed him more than the dehumanization that was delivered to him swiftly by his parental figure.  
Mr. Underwood turns around and walks out of the room, thinking that his job is done. Freddy stays behind. He reaches below him to grab the paper. He stares down at the permission slip. He thinks about what it would be like to just have the summer to himself for once. To just hang out with other kids his age, to go for a casual swim, roast marshmallows, to just...pretend he was normal, just for one summer. Isn’t that worth fighting for? He thought so.

Freddy forces himself up running after Mr. Underwood. "Mister Underwood! Sir!...You gotta factor in that my food is accounted for." His dad turns to him, not pleased with Freddy's objections and his glare strikes fear into Freddy's soul, stabbing at him like a pack of needles. Still, he pushes it down, continuing his disobedience. He will not show fear, his dad feeds off of it, just like every other no good adult "Activities such as these keep my body in shape which makes me more appealing to potential clients. The camp ends early August so I would have time to conduct business before the new school year starts and...I’ll make money while I’m there!” Underwood raises a brow.  
“They’re paying you for this?”  
Freddy looked to the side unsure. No, no they didn’t but technically; he didn’t need to know that. “Y-yes, sir…” He had his attention now. The air lightened a bit. He felt safer but not out of the woods yet. “It’s beyond minimum wage. I get paid hourly. I should have…” Freddy struggled a bit, his mind drawing a blank of what would be reasonable earnings and yet still be able to complete with Underwood’s current system. “600 dollars!” Fred bit his tongue unable to stop the overzealous guess before it slipped out of his mouth.  
“Hm...Fine. If you're bringing home that much who am I to complain?” Freddy’s eyes widened just realizing how deep of a hole he dug himself into as he watched Mr. Underwood press a pen to paper. There’s no way he’s just gonna be able to stumble his way into 600 bucks at a cheap campground that didn’t even intend to pay him in the first place, and if Mr. Underwood didn't get his money, he could expect a creatively cruel punishment. What could it be? Swallowing boiling water? Having to eat roadkill for a week? Breaking beer bottles over his knees? All very possible punishments considering Freddy endured them in the past. However, the possibility of a new unknown torment scared him most. The worst part was that there’s no backing out now. His path has been set. He’ll have to just go with it. Slowly taking the sheet out of his father's hands, his own shaking and folding it. A contract signed and a fate sealed.

A week later Freddy rushes towards the school grounds, the heat of the sun shining upon him. The school has been closed for 3 days now and the once overwhelmingly loud environment has become silent so it was easy to hear where he was supposed to go. The chit chat of the other students was easy to follow. However, once he arrived on the scene the cheery talk instantly froze. Every pair of eyes hyper-focused on him in disbelief. Every child there was either popular or considered extremely talented. They all had futures. So Freddy stood out like a sore thumb. A kid with no future, no hope put alongside the brightest youth of America. The teens slowly eased into murmurs, each one related to him. Eyes turning but guards still up. He couldn’t make everything out but the terms of “hundred maniac kid” and “the weirdest guy in Springwood” were audible so he gets the idea. He sighs separating from the group and walking up to the table Miss Langenkamp had set up. “Fredrick Charles Krueger, present.”  
She smiles and nods putting a checkmark on the list. “The bus should be here shortly. Have a safe time Kruger.”  
Freddy raised a brow. “You’re not coming?”  
Miss Lagenkamp shook her head “Crystal Lake hires teenagers all over. So your supervisors will be the staff of the company. Simple as that,” she explained. Freddy was handed a laminated name tag as she said that. He nods in understanding shoving the name tag into his pocket and heads to the bus that had just pulled in. 

Freddy sits silently, distant from the other children. He would stare out of the window counting the seconds and trees that would pass him. Sure it was lonely but it was peaceful. There was nothing to fear, nothing to hide away from. There was just now. Even if now was incredibly dull it wasn’t a spiral so he’ll take what he can get. However, the smells of home taunt him. Some kids snuck smokes in along with booze in water bottles so there was a faint presence of home in the back of his mind. A reminder that once he’s had his fun. His pretend session of being normal. Hell will still be waiting for him. Freddy groans getting angry at himself for even thinking about it; as it was something he promised himself that he wouldn’t do while packing his bags. He wanted to enjoy this. He rarely if ever gets opportunities like this and he wanted to make the most out of what little he had. He leans back only to feel something poke him in his back pocket. He reaches back pulling out his dad’s shaving blade. His eyes widened. He never realized he didn’t put it back as he thought he did. This is probably the worst consequence of not having a parent that wouldn't wash the laundry. He panics quickly shoving it back into his pants. He couldn’t let anyone see he had this. It would be twisted against him within a second. The son of a hundred maniacs with a weapon. He’d get kicked off campground instantly. Or at least outlasted from the society of teens. Losing his normal time...so it must remain a secret. 

“Okay kids, welcome to your new life as a certified Camp Crystal Lake counselors! Trademark 1935. The New Lives company prides itself in sparking the fire of success in the youth of America! You agreeing to be a counselor is not only helping the children grow but you as well.” Freddy nods as the staff member drones. The speech has the flow of molasses. It seems shoddy and improvised. The kid was only 2 years older than them at best and despite the fact they were decked out in Crystal Lake merchandise they looked out of place. Maybe it was the bags under his eyes, maybe it was the way they’d jitter a bit after every sentence but still, vastly out of place. So it’s no surprise he’s not actually listening. From what little he actually processed it was all thickly coated in sugar; it was outright sickening. This spiel was clearly aimed at the other kids. The peachy happy American dream kids that he’ll be forced to room with. “As Crystal Lake counselors you must understand that you are responsible for our young campers. Because of this great responsibility, you will be trusted with access to the entire campground and as per the agreement you will be expected to be mature and oversee the children. Do you understand?”  
“Sir, yes sir,” All the teens said in unison. All as bored as Freddy and all willing to say whatever to make this end sooner.  
“Alright then! We’ll uh… Uh. we’ll let you settle in for today. You’ll be given your camp manuals later today. Girls in cabin C, boys in cabin A”  
The separation of the sexes caused loud and exaggerated jeers towards the young adult. Some boys even taking off their shirts and shoes chucking it at the presenter. He huffed quickly walking off. “I DIDN’T MAKE THE RULES!”  
He cries clearly offended as he gets booed off the stage. Freddy almost expected the loser to start weeping.

Freddy carries his bag to the cabin. Gravel crunching underneath his shoes, some small pebbles slipping into them as there were small holes in his worn-out footwear. Something that Freddy chose to ignore until he got to the living space. He opens the door mentally preparing himself for something unpleasant but... This place was quite nice actually. The wood was new enough and had a nice pine smell. An aroma that Kruger only knew from scented candles. On the floor was spread this blue rug with tassels on the ends. The walls decorated with sporting equipment that’ll never be used. Not only because they were too high up but because they were winter gear. Polished drawers and bookshelves were placed around and the place was as clean as one could reasonably expect for a cabin out in the woods. Freddy smiled sitting down on the bed next to the front door. He let out a sigh of satisfaction as his body settled into the bed. The mattress was soft, light like feathers. Far better than that rock of a bed back home. Even if it was a bunk bed it gave him more room than the one back home that was pressed against a boiling pipe. As Freddy lays down embracing his new comfort his peers start pouring into the cabin. Freddy was overlooked by them as each already had their own little cliques. Friends that one could turn to and spend all their time with. While Freddy didn’t have such a luxury, for once he didn’t mind that. He just enjoyed the small decencies he had at the moment and he couldn’t think of a better thing to do than drift off in this super comfortable bed. 

As reality and subconscious fuse, Freddy finds himself at the end of a long wooden table. Groggy, Freddy looks around. There are plates set for tons of people but it’s only him and this nun. A long silk cloth spread across, the only thing connecting him and this woman. The stained glass ceiling reflects off of the white. Not only on the table but the nuns’ outfit as well.  
The nun with a goblet of wine and Fredrick with white chunks of fat piled up high from varieties of meat. Freddy knows this one. This one isn't a common one but it always haunts him. It causes an ache in the back of his brain like a minor tumor working itself into overtime to make sure its presence is known. Vague names come to mind. Amber, Amanda, Annie, Able. He’s supposed to remember some sort A name but it’s undefined in his head just like one can’t define this garbage on a plate as a meal. So, considering the lack of title beyond the vague notion of a nun was it really any surprise that she lacked in a face? It was just melting wax. It sloppily drips into the red liquid creating gross plopping sounds. Red liquid spilling onto the soft cloth. Freddy despite being shaken by this tries to play it cool. Looking at the disfigured holy woman in the nonexistent eyes. Tapping his fingers against the table waiting for her to make a move but she remains stilted. She never makes an attempt. Close but forever out of his reach. Without even thinking Freddy reaches out to it. The boy was disappointed but not surprised. This figure has remained apathetic his entire life. Despite the staggering distance between them. He tries to grasp something. Anything. Reading into bubbling wax the would burst every now and then trying to interpret any form of expression. Does she even know he's here? He stands up, deciding to walk over there himself. Until he feels a restraint wrap around him. He gasps being caught completely off guard only to have that weakness used against him. More attacking him by the second. Facing back he sees deep red hands. Whispers of past clients run through his head. “Let go.” “Give up.” “This is how it is.” All words that were spoken to him in his younger years when he still had the will to fight back against those disgusting horrid people that used him as a plaything. He wants to vomit but outright lacks the energy. That was just the thing. He never was okay with their leather hands, the way they spit when they call him shabbaroon and stingbum, how they’d smell his hair. It’s just that he lost the will to fight for something better. But today, what he retired within himself poked its head out and changed him. It might have been his victory of getting the summer to himself, it might have just been built up frustration boiling over the pot but that doesn't matter. What matters is that he pulls back. He fights slamming these red hands down against the table, biting, kicking, trying to approach his mother. Not even knowing if she would or could help him but it was an act of instinct. Reaching, slowly making his way across plates of dry lamb, spilling glasses of wine, squishing ham, staining his pants with bleeding steak and stabbing his knees with forks. He gets so agonizingly close almost able to touch the woman. But the grip gets tighter. Cutting off circulation. A face of desperation meets the melting one. Before it's pulled back violently into the darkness. 

Freddy screams, a heavyweight pressing against his stomach, pressing against his rib cage causing Freddy to jump up from his bed. He thought he was dying for a second but when he woke up he was just greeted by the chuckles of the other counselors and the look of confusion of a boy carrying a stack of books. Looking down that crushing sensation was just a thick manual. Embarrassed he takes the novel off his chest and chooses not to comment fearing he would just dig himself a deeper hole.  
“Alllright.” the boy said moving onto the others continuing to hand out the books just pretending that didn’t happen. “The kitchen lady says we should read through all of this before week 2. If we have any questions we should ask her.” One boy chimed in. “Why is the cook training us?” The other boy just shrugged. “I guess this place is cheap? Anyways uniforms are in the drawers. We don’t need to wear them all the time but they’re apparently necessary for when the kids arrive.” This prompts Freddy to sit up and pull open a drawer. Right there was a t-shirt that proudly displayed the camp logo, red striped knee-high socks and...booty shorts. Freddy jumped once he pulled that out, a dagger of shock stabbing into his chest. This is an outfit that could easily get some sick fuck’s boat a rocking. The worst part is when he looks around, he seems to be the only one that realizes it. He sees his peers proudly holding the shirts up to their chest and some even posing. It leaves him...conflicted. Is this him seeing through the thin cloth able to pick up on the true reason behind these outfit choices or has his view of normality forever been tainted by his strange cruel life? 

As he contemplated this, a gentle hand taps him on the shoulder. Being broken out of his thoughts he faces the boy.  
“Excuse me mister uh, Kruger. I was wondering if you would like to go over the manual with me.” The kid seemed a bit uptight. Kind of nervous to be here.  
He raises his brow. “Why me?”  
The boy looks behind him seeing all their other peers already established, doing their own thing. Not even caring about the book. “I’m...I took pity on you. Poor maniac boy reading must be hard for you! I, the amazing Owen Forhan, am just the guy to help you out.”  
Freddy raises a brow. “...You get beat up a lot huh kid?”  
Owen looks to the side legitimately pondering this for a moment. “No, I don’t think so.”  
Freddy rolled his eyes “Well today’s your lucky today,” Freddy said approaching the kid; his fist hitting his own hand.  
“Wait, WAIT!” Owen cries raising his arms in front of his face in a poor attempt to defend himself. Freddy held his fist in the air with no intention of actually using it but it acted as a guarantee that he wouldn’t be belittled by this chump. “Look, I’m sorry okay. I-it’s just. Everyone else has already split up and I prefer to study in pairs soo…”  
Freddy got the idea. This kid was a loser that didn’t want to admit he was a loser. Unable to click with the others and uncomfortable with his own thoughts. It would be easy to make Owen admit to this. I mean he was afraid of Freddy’s bluff of a punch under the pretense of maniac boy. Would it really be that outrageous if he made him eat dirt? However, common sense overcame impulse. He was here to be normal so he’ll have to play nice. The feelings of fictitious capability were enjoyable but they were but mere dreams that Kruger couldn’t realistically achieve. So might as well settle for second best. He lowers his fist replacing his annoyed look with a smile.  
“You could have just said so.”  
Fred’s voice shifts a bit into a slightly pandering tone. It wasn’t even intentional it’s just out of habit. His brain shifting to a manner he uses with clients to put them at ease. “Just lead the way and I can help you out with your little problem”  
Owen still seems a tad unsure but nods. “Okay...Open your book, we’ll read as we walk.” As Freddy follows him out of the cabin Owen clears his throat. “Chapter 1, getting the kids to trust you.”


	2. Dionysus

Freddy sits on the dirt completely separated from any form of dialog Owen was trying to partake in. His back leaning against the log that was supposed to be the seating. While Freddy was able to keep up fine with chapters 1-6 this little session extended beyond reason and the boy found himself completely drained from it all. He wasn't absorbing any of the information given to him. It was all just passing over him just a small breeze. At this point, he was unsure if even Owen was learning anything from this. He wouldn't be surprised if Owen was more enthralled by the idea of teaching than the actual material. It was kind of cute in a way, like a toddler serving fake tea. Caring about the idea more than the act but not even great passion could persuade Krueger into listening. 

“How long have you guys been out here?” another consular approaches carrying firewood, dropping it all at once into the fire pit. Freddy shot up looking around having lost track of time only to see that dusk was approaching. "Fuuuuuuckkkkk," he whines realizing his first day has been wasted. Slipped completely from his grasp. The other boy chuckled "Hey man relax, you're not missing much anyway.” He speaks as he organizes the wood into a pyramid shape. “It was basically just chatting and planning a route to the girl’s cabin," he says dusting off his hands. "Have any of you even opened the book?" Owen asked with the same tone of a teacher disappointed in the entire class. The boy shrugs "I don't know about the other guys but I'm good."   
"You think you're too cool for learning?" Owen retorted   
"No, it's just that I've done this before. You're looking at a certified counselor that has been in the game for two years now!" Owen had this face of amazement his respect making a sharp u-turn. Freddy remains neutral. "Is it that fun around here? The boy smiles and raises his shoulders. "Well, it has pros and cons like everything else." Just then, a bell rang. The seasoned consular tighten up hearing it. Owen and Fred looked at him confused. It was just a bell after all. The boy sighed "speak of the devil," he speaks in dismay as he approaches the mess hall. Owen and Freddy decided to follow. That guy knows more than they do anyways. 

The group of teenagers scurries into one of the more aged buildings. One with moss claiming the roof as its own. Still, the structure carries this sense of pride around it even if the teens didn't respect it. With roots so deep in the ground, removal would be next to impossible. When Freddy entered it immediately clicked that this was a mess hall. Freddy counted about 4 long tables for each side. Way more than needed to host the counselors. Clearly this is an area meant to be shared with the kids. Although there were still some extra tables outside of the place. It was easy to notice that the boys and girls already were mixed. Both parties seemingly hated the separation. The endeavor to keep things PG will ultimately end up futile. It’s only a matter of when. Freddy just decided to slip into the crowd and take a seat not really caring who he ends up next to. He didn’t really know how this whole thing worked so he just thought it was best to observe for now. The chatter in the hall was deafening. No matter how hard he'd try to listen in on other’s conversations to get some sort of clue on what to do, he didn’t pick up anything. He could ask them but only stupid kids ask questions like that and Freddy wasn't an idiot. He’ll just bullshit a guess. It works in most of his classes. He notices dishes being placed down on these counter that connects the kitchen and mess hall. The window connecting the two rooms covered by a small pale blue curtain. The more experienced just seem to grab a plate or two and wander off to their own table. Freddy looks around him noticing not a lot of people are getting the message, not even his own table so he thought grabbing a few extra plates would be helpful. 

The residents of the table are pleasantly surprised when the Krueger kid places down their dinner in front of them. Balancing plates on his arms like a waiter at a casual dining restaurant. “Thank you...You” the flower hair girl says in a cheery voice leaning in trying to read his shirt expecting a name tag but she quickly realizes that this is not the kind of situation she’s in. A Tall kid follows up with a chuckle. Freddy didn’t recognize them so she must be one of the kids from a different state. While a majority of the counselors are from Springwood the offering was open to everyone in the nearby states. Freddy could only assume Springwood was so common here because of the lack of activity for reckless youth during the summer other than curch and sports teams leaving many kids with a dull experience, and some people get desperate with exposed to prolonged boredom. “No problem,” he says putting on a fake smile and sitting down. Freddy sits down starting to block out the chatter of peers as he looks down at his tray. He reaches out to the large bread roll placed next to the vegetable casserole. He’s pleasantly surprised when it’s soft to the touch, one could describe it as plush. Freddy brings it to his face taking a generous bite out of it. His face lit up as his taste bud processed the still warm wheat. Soft and delicious. Simple, but it’s heaven for a pallet used to expired, sometimes raw sustenance. A smile grows on his face absolutely delighted by this hand made food, it was divine. The Casserole accompanying it had this great crunch behind it too. Still warm with fresh ingredients. Krueger felt like a king but others felt like chumps. Many poking or flinging their food around. Hell, some were just skipping the desert, chocolate silk cake. Freddy rolled his eyes at the display of entitlement. Little pigs. 

The fire dances along the night sky cracking and popping at random. Vague images of people, houses, animals all burning, all being delighted by it. Freddy was hypnotized by it. The powerful light contrasted the star-filled sky was a thing of beauty. Freddy is using his imagination for the first time in years and it’s effortless. One of the louder girls chucking whatever she could into the flames. Pine cones, branches, and napkins she pocketed from dinner, nothing was off-limits. She was just as excited as Fred. Cackling as she watches her items become consumed by fire. This warmth was welcomed, comfortable. Unlike, the basement Mr. Underwood forced him into, it would assault him. His clothes would stick to him almost suffocating. Making him pull and scratch at the skin he was blessed with. No windows were available to obtain cool air. Just an endurance test of how long he can survive being steamed to death by those damn pipes. Just thinking of it all made him scratch at his wrist out of habit but it didn’t last. This flame was far more inviting. He could see it for one thing. It’s light beaming onto him filling his eyeballs with a joyous luminescence hurting him in the best way possible. It’s heat filling his empty body and soul even if it’s only a modest amount. He gets closer. Leaning his face in getting as close as he can. He smiles seeing it trying to reach him, to burn him like every else within its grasp. However, despite the blaze's power, it can’t touch him. Only tease him with the threat of heat. “Jesus Christ Krueger!’ suddenly, Freddy is grabbed by the back of his shirt pulled away from his heated mistress. “Just a reminder Fred. Fire is indeed, hot.” Owen remarks. Freddy groans having the urge to push him into the flames for daring to take him away from it. He had forgotten how pleasant his old friend could be. A partner he had not had a tango with since people stopped dropping their lighters around Fred’s neighborhood. To deny him that time to reconnect should be considered a crime. Any other day he’d tell the guy to fuck off to take his piss covered pigskin off to the backwater barn he was born in and drown in the shit filled slop he sucks up daily. If it was any other day. Any, other, day. But not today. Normal kid, doing normal things. At this camp, he’s going to have more than one pleasant moment so he doesn’t have to defend this one so hard. So he just breaths slowly, moving back to reclaim his spot on one of the logs. 

A stick taps against an empty coke bottle gently bringing the group’s attention over to them. It was the veteran counselor that Freddy met earlier. "Camp crystal lake! 1957!" He speaks in a hype man voice and it seems like it works as the other kid’s cheer. Freddy is late but he raises his fist and smiles to give off the illusion he knows what he's doing. The veteran laughs waiting until the excitement does down a bit before he continues. "Welcome! Welcome! I'd like to start by thanking every one of you for coming out. Your folks may have the perception that you’re giving up your summer to be here. Well, they’re wrong. This is an enhancement to your summer! A way to turn a good summer into a great one! It may be hard work, the kids may be gross but I promise the parties and beer make up for it!” once again the teen gathered up a crowd of cheers. 

“Now, let’s start with intros, shall we? Keep it brief, keep it snappy, name and home only. We can do life stories later. Okay? Okay. Let’s start withhhhhh.” The boy covers his eyes hovering his hand across the group landing onto a girl deeply invested in her sketchbook and wasn't present at all for the current conversation. She looked up utterly confused by why all eyes were on her. It took her a moment but she eventually introduced herself as Elza, a local to the area; only to dive back into her paper. She speeds through her intro for sure only putting forth the bare minimum effort. Still, the flow has been established. Next was Trey, a kid from Indiana. He was probably the tallest of the group. He was very laid back, he spoke soft but he shouldn’t be considered passive, he was the first to break the ice after all. Sparking several conversations in the cabin effortlessly. Chrissy was next she was the kid that had been putting flowers in her hair since she got here. She was a Springwood kid so Freddy had a vague idea of what she was like already. Around school, she's known for constantly volunteering for whatever came her way and she was a high member of like three clubs. Of course, her grades were in the can. All that focused on socializing left little time for actual school work. Afterward, Riley introduced himself. He was one of those girls with an unreasonably long skincare routine. She tried to get an astronomy club started in Springwood high but it never got anywhere. Taylor was one that got under a lot of adult skins. She was roaming around Springwood singing in public areas and then when people demand her to stop she’ll require a fee for her silence. If not paid she’ll only increase her volume. Freddy honestly respected her tactics. Her greatest talent was squeezing out pennies but it sure wasn’t a necessity for her. More a hobby maintained by boredom. Becca from the big apple who had a bit of an accent and spoke very loudly. She was the one chucking stuff into the fire earlier. She looks like she could kill anyone here. Owen was so unremarkable that not only was his intro skippable but his existence to. The kid was from Springwood and Freddy has never noticed him before. Then again, judging by the cross on his neck it's most likely just because Freddy's life is so far removed from god. Two paths so far removed from each other they'll rarely interact. A proud Christian and whatever the fuck Freddy was. There was a two for one deal going with Barry and Claudette. Locals that were talking non-stop during dinner and you'd have to be an idiot to not know Barry is looking for some summertime love. Lucky for him, Claudette is an idiot. Seemingly clueless as to why the boy was sitting close to her. Besides that Freddy could tell Barry was into some sort of kickball or track just by the muscle mass on his lower half compared to his noodle arms. Claudette wasn't as easy to read but she sure chewed gum loudly. She'd even do it open maw. Hopefully, she doesn't do the same with actual food. 

It finally landed on Fred and he finds himself tensing up. First impressions are important after all. Still, he knows not to oversell. "Freddy Krueger. Springwood. Nice to meet you all" generic? Yes remarkably bland but it was passable. Sure the teens from Springwood that knew of his reputation were skeptical but those not familiar with the maniac tale seemed welcoming enough. He supposes that's the best he can hope for as of now. "And then there's me! Your fearless leader-" "I never agreed to that" Elza cuts in only to be promptly ignored. "Say hello to the one and only David Wilson! A proud local and camp master." Freddy's eyes widened hearing that name. It was uncomfortably familiar. 

Freddy has seen many John's in his time and all of them were bad at hiding their identity. Family photos, sports teams, work parties. Freddy would at least get a glimpse of it all. Quick fuck or not, sex is still the most intimate thing you can do with a person. There’s no such thing as privacy in between the sheets. Plus motels were a rarity with these guys. Too many chances to get caught if Freddy decides to scream loud enough. So it’s not hard to recall Charles Wilson. He was a greasy motherfucker. His hair looked like he ran a stick of butter through it daily. Tons of dirty underneath his nails and bags under his eyes. A clearly broken man feeling powerless and looking for easy prey. He could tell he hated his wife just the way he called him a fucking bitch and backhanded him. He probably liked beating him more than anything. Of course, he probably knows this guy better than his own wife. Just because he was showing Krueger his true monstrous self. Guy didn’t last long. He was a novelist at best. He had naked pictures of him and other children trapped in the Springwood circle but they were mass-produced copies. He never knew how these things were produced but he was familiar enough with the photos that he was numb to it. Krueger was probably his wet dream long before he stepped into his abode. Freddy was surprised to notice Charles didn’t even think to lock the door. A grade-A dumbass. Still, it allowed him to roam. Something the boy actually enjoyed. Most times Fredrick had very little power in his work dynamic. It was designed to be like that after all. So the closest thing he gets to any form of control is picking apart his John’s physiological and the very rare moment he can say something that really stings. To make them feel like the pathetic scum they truly are. Most of the time that’s the closet to revenge he’ll get. However, Charles’s case was far different. Freddy can remember clearly exploring the house. It was huge, nice carpets, wooden floors, and a tv ban. Not a single telly in sight despite the wealth on display. There was a knitting project in the works placed on the living room table, pictures of the family and the son’s soccer team displayed. It all seems so perfect from the outside and usually, the dirty underbelly would never come to light. This squeaky clean mask would hide the truth until the man dies. However, this is the one time that it completely shattered and it that break started with the dropping of cans. A brunette in a flowing dress and a child in a soccer uniform stood in the door. One horrified by the implications of a child wrapped in a towel and one just deeply confused asking his mom questions she did not have the answers to. All eyes on him Krueger did not know what to do. He didn’t want to bullshit for the guy but he knew if he got caught if he reached out to these people there would be hell to pay. Panicked and put on the spot Freddy ran. Squeezing through the two and racing out into the foggy night. He could hear screaming between the married couple as he ran down the abandoned street and Freddy could basically feel the build-up to violence in the air and he really didn’t want to light rod in that shit storm. He’s willing to take the rocks to his bare feet if it meant not being involved in the fallout. He looked behind just to make sure he wasn’t being chased. Only to see the son eyeballing him. A completely blank stare just watching his getaway. 

It took less than a week for divorce rumors to spread around the elementary school around young David. A kid in a different class but the same age as Freddy. Needless to say, Freddy decided to stay in for recess. A month later the mother and son moved out and the father hanged himself. So it really was a wait out the situation. No police approached him, David never saw him again as far as the family knew Freddy only existed for an hour. Could this guy really be the same David, or was it just a common name? Even if it is, would he even remember him specifically? This was an odd situation, to say the least.


End file.
